The Mask You Wear
by januaryfreeze92
Summary: What if Christine and Erik loved each other before the moviebookplay? EC Fluff. Mostly based on 2004 movie, but I have read Louroux and Kay, and I have seen the Charles Dance version. It's friendly with all of them.  - Will most likely never be finished -
1. Angel of Music

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera (much to my dismay), Christine, Raul, Erik (I wish!), Madame Giry, Meg, or any other characters at this point. But I own this story, which I hope is good…. **

**I try to keep lyrics close to the original, but sometimes I have to change them. So ya know.**

**Review? Pretty Please?**

Chapter 1

"Brava, brava, bravissimo…"

The young singer looked up at the sound. Christine smiled, realizing who it was, but before she responded she heard another voice drift to her in the small chapel.

"_Christine, Christine…_

_Where in the world have you been hiding_

_Really, you were perfect _

_I only wish I knew your secret _

_Who is your great tutor?"_

"Meg," Christine said, turning to her best friend, "When your mother brought me here to live, whenever I come down here alone to light a candle for my father a voice from above… and in my dreams… he was always there… You see, when my father lay dying He told me I will be protected by an angel. An angel of music."

"Christine, do you believe? Do you think the spirit of your father tutored you?"

Christine, hearing her speak, somewhat came to her senses and refrained from telling her the truth. So instead, she stuttered, "Who else, Meg? Who?"

"_Father once spoke of an angel, _

_I used to dream he'd appear. _

_Now as I sing, I can sense him _

_And I know he's here _

_Here in this room he calls me softly _

_Somewhere inside hiding _

_Somehow I know he's always with me _

_He, the unseen genius…" _

Christine smiled softly, looking around her. She did feel him, her Erik, and knew that she would talk to him later that evening.

"_Christine, you must have been dreaming_

_Stories like this can't come true _

_Christine, you are talking in riddles _

_And it's not like you…"_

"_Angel of Music Guide and guardian _

_Grant to me your glory" _

"_Who is this angel. This…"_

"_Angle of Music _

_Hide no longer_

_Secret and strange and angel…"_

"_He's with me, even now"_

"_You seem happy…"_

"_All around me!"_

"_Your face, Christine, it's red…" _

"_I'm overjoyed."_

"_Whatever you say…"_

"Christine?"

"Yes, Meg?"

"Who is really teaching you? You can tell me."

They were on their way back to the dressing rooms, the corridor seemed empty, but Christine doubted it.

"Meg, why do you think I'm lying?"

She laughed, "Christine, as fantastic as you are at acting, your like my sister. I can see past your false words. I can also see that your blushing."

Christine turned to her, "He made me promise, Meg. It's a secret."

Meg raised her eyebrows as they continued walking, "A man who asks you to keep him a secret? I think you may have a suitor on you. And with the Vicomte looking your way…" She said, looking pointedly ahead of them at Christine's new dressing room door, where he waited for her along with many others, "Tell me about it later! I must take my leave, my chemise is becoming quite itchy."

Christine sighed and walked over to her old dressing room that Meg just disappeared into.

The ballet girls' dressing room was connected to the female lead's dressing room by a locked door, to which Christine had the key.

Fumbling with the small piece of iron, she unlocked the door to her dressing room where Madame Giry was waiting for her.

"You did very well, my dear. He's pleased with you." They shared a knowing smile as she handed Christine the rose and motioned for her to turn around. Unknotting Christine's corset, she mentioned breezily. "I do think he enjoyed it, I bumped into him earlier while you and Meg were talking in the chapel. May I say, it was quite clever to say you believe your father's ghost is tutoring you."

Christine smiled, "Well, it wasn't a complete lie. I used to think that until he told me who he really was."

"Well, I hoped you didn't believe that after he wooed you with his 'Music of the Night'." They laughed, and Madame Giry finished loosening her corset. When she tied it again, Christine turned to her questioningly.

"You have a guest outside, and I don't think it would be proper to not where it. Shall I send him in?"

Christine thought a second, and replied, "Yes, I suppose so. Thank you," and returned to twirling the rose in her fingers. She truly hoped that Raul didn't plan on wooing her and that he was just an old friend paying a visit.

Raul entered the room with a large bouquet of flowers in his hands and a grin on his face. Christine sighed inaudibly, thinks don't always turn out the way you want them to, do they?

"Little Lotte let her mind wander,

Little Lottie thought: Am I fonder of dolls or of goblins of shoes?"

Christine giggled, "Raoul."

"Or of riddles and frogs?"

"Those picnics in the attic…"

"As we ate chocolates…."

"Father playing the violin."

"As we read to each other dark stories of the North."

'_Just like old times… perhaps it is nice to catch up on some things.'_

She smiled, "No - what I love best, Lottie said, is when I'm asleep in my bed and the Angel of Music sings songs in my head!"

"The Angel of Music sings songs in my head!"

"Oh, you sang like an angel tonight," Raul said embracing her softly.

"Father said, 'When I'm in heaven, child I will send the Angel of Music to you'. Well, father is dead, Raoul, and I have been visited by the Angel of Music." She said lightly, using the excuse she used with Meg earlier.

"Oh, no doubt of it - And now we'll go to supper!"

"No, Raoul, the Angel of Music is very strict." She said, praying that he would catch on. "Well, I shan't keep you up late!"

"Raoul, no…"

"You must change. I'll order my carriage. Two minutes - Little Lottie."

"No, Raoul, wait!"

She sighed and rolled her eyes, getting up to get changed and knocked five times in a pattern next to the door to the ballet girls' dressing rooms.

"Finally!" Meg said, from the other side of the door and Christine let her in.

"Did you hear the conversation?" Christine asked her, to which Meg nodded vigorously.

"Most of it, at least."

"What am I to do, Meg? I can't give him false hope, yet he's my old friend, I don't want him to feel badly." Christine said, sitting on the bed next to Meg.

"Well, maybe you should go and make sure he realizes that you are not interested in him in that way?" The smaller girl said.

"How do I say that to our biggest patron, though?" She sighed.

"I'll go!" Meg said, laughing.

"Yes, I do wish you could."

Meg frowned at her friends discomfort, "Do you want me to retighten your corset for you?"

"Yes, please, Meg." She said, sighing, and standing up, removing the large dress and standing before her dresser, Meg went to tighten her corset while Christine pulled out what she would wear.

"What do I say, again?" She asked Meg.

"Make it clear that your just friends, that's all. Say how happy you are to see your 'old friend' again, or how happy you are to be 'friends' again. Or maybe even speak of your tutor… I do hope your picking up my hint, Christine." Meg said, tying the corset into a tight bow.

Christine raised an eyebrow and slipped the dining dress over her head. "Meg, it's a secret… Okay?"

"Christine, you've known me for years, you can tell me anything! We are sisters in all but blood."

She glanced at the clock on the wall, "Meg, he'll be here in but a moment, let's talk later. Please?"

Meg followed her glance, and nodded, "I'll see you after. I'll be up, so feel free to knock," her eyes told her differently, that she _had_ to knock.

They hugged, "Good luck." And Meg exited out the door.

Christine sat back down at her desk. Her chair faced away from the mirror but it was to the mirror she spoke, "Erik, I know you're there. Might you come out now?"

Silent as a mouse, she did not hear him at all, he moved to embrace her from behind, whispering into her ear, "Insolent boy, this slave of fashion, basking in your glory."

"There is no need to be too harsh on him. I suppose it's my fault." She said, hanging her head.

"Your fault? By being so beautifully tempting? Do not fret so."

They shared a moment of peace, "He'll be here soon, and I know how you hate to share." She said, quietly.

"Will you go with him?" He asked, solemnly.

"Not because I want to." She said, resting against him.

"Then why go at all?" Erik asked, with her ear against his chest she could hear his soft, deep voice vibrate in his vocal chords. She smiled a little at that. And leaned into it some more.

"Do you really want me to have a suitor that is not your self?"

He rose suddenly, "You do have me there," He whispered, and motioned to the door. "I'll be here when you come back. Have your chat with Meg first, of course." He leaned down and captured Christine's lips in a soft kiss, "Love you." He said, and disappeared into the mirrors revolving frame. "Love you, too." She said to the air.

Then there was a knock on the door.


	2. Dining With a Fop

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera (much to my dismay), Christine, Raul, Erik (I wish!), Madame Giry, Meg, or any other characters at this point. I don't even own La Garnier, the restaurant! That's in Edgartown Martha's Vineyard in Massachusetts! But I own this story!**

**I have not read Kay, so you know… But I ordered it from amazon! Yay! Coming this week!!!**

**Sorry about the sucky first chapter, I hope it will get better. Don't flame me, but definitely give me feedback!**

**Oooo, who can find that quote from "Twilight" by Stephenie Meyer? Extra brownie points for them!**

Chapter 2

Christine heard a knock on the door and stood up, glancing quickly at the mirror, but all she saw was her reflection. She then moved to the door, "Who is it?" Christine said in a clear voice.

"It is I, Raul de Chagny, to pick you up for dinner," answered a voice from the other side of the door, and with a quick, longing glance to the mirror, she opened the door and stepped out into the chilly hallway.

"Hello, Mossier de Chagny," Christine said with a reserved politeness.

The Viscomte seemed insulted and said, "Please, call me Raul."

"Of course, my friend," She said with a small smile.

They walked down the empty corridor to the entrance of the Opera Populaire in friendly conversation.

--- --- --- --- ---

Late night laughter on a city street always made Christine nervous. After leaving her dressing room she and Raul walked out the entrance of the large Opera Populaire and into the chilly November night. Some stable hands were passing around a beer near the entrance. She recognized the hoarse laughter of Joseph Bouquet coming from the ally and shuddered at what he might be doing with one of the ballet rats.

Raul mistook her shudder, "Are you cold?"

"No, of course not," she said quietly.

Raul removed his coat in a gentlemanly gesture and she suddenly wished she brought Erik's warm, black cape. She knew it would soothe her greatly, but she feared that if she turned around now she would never leave the large beautiful building and Raul may pursue her more.

She thanked him politely and they continued their walk.

"You see, I would have called for my carriage, but the restaurant is only a short walk away. And if I remember correctly, you rather enjoy walking," He said.

"Yes, I do. And it _is_ a nice night to do so, if not a little chilly. The sky is quite clear," she remarked, looking up at the sky.

"You are so amazingly beautiful, Christine, what shall I compare you with?"

This question caught her off guard. Casting her eyes down to the ground she said, "Thank you, Raul, but I'd prefer you did not compare me to anything at all," But quickly changing the subject she said, "Oh, I must introduce you to my best of friends, Meg Giry. I do believe she will be the next lead ballerina! She is gorgeous, Raul, you will love her."

He looked at her quite disbelievingly, but continued on without a word.

They arrived at La Garnier a moment later and walked up the stairs leading to the restaurant on the second floor. The walls were covered in a light blue, with painted green vines and flowers over that. The windows faced the street on two sides. She saw the opera house and couldn't help but think of Erik.

'_No, Raoul, the Angel of Music is very strict.' _

'_Well, I shan't keep you up late!'_

Christine quietly sighed and followed Raul and the hostess too the table next to the very window she was staring out of. Handing him his jacket she sat down and Raul pushed her chair in a very gentlemanly gesture. Then, sitting down himself, he took a small, pink rose from the coat pocket and handed it to her. It was so different than the red rose she held in her hand earlier. She couldn't help but think the pink rose safer. But she didn't want safe. She would rather have the dangerously seductive rose any day. Christine would much rather have _Erik_ any day than she would Raul.

"Thank you, Raul," She said, trying to smile sweetly, "It is so nice to have a friend like you. You knew my father, and that makes you even more special than you already are."

"A special friend, hm? And what does a 'special friend' entitle?"

"Not much more than a best friend, to be honest," Raul heard the meaning behind her words, but refused to believe them.

"And what of suitors, my dear, what do they entitle?" He asked her, gazing into her eyes.

She looked down at their hands. He somehow managed to entwine them together in their conversation. Christine disentangled them immediately, "I do hope you are not speaking of yourself, Raul. It makes thing all the more complicated and much harder."

"What is so complicated, Christine?" He said, trying to force meaning through his eyes gently, "The man loves the woman, the women loves the man, things happen. Not complicated in the least."

"The woman doesn't love 'the man', she loves a man. And that man is not the man of whom you speak," She said gently but with force.

He was silent for a moment, "There is another."

"Yes," she looked to the opera house, and she truly did wish she was there.

"He is there as we speak, isn't he?"

She nodded.

"Does he know of our meeting?"

She nodded again, "I do not like to keep secrets from him."

"I don't think he'd like to share you with me," Raul said, with a chuckle.

Christine laughed too, "He doesn't. But he felt it was necessary this once."

He didn't miss the 'this once' and frowned.

"Who is he, Christine? Does he love you?"

"Yes, very much," She said, with a soft smile.

"Who is he?"

She froze. He had caught her bluff head on, she averted her eyes, "His name is Erik."

"And his surname?"

To avoid answering the question, she stated, "Aren't you rather inquisitive?"

"I like to know who I'm up against," he said with a wink.

"Oh, _no_, Raul."

"What? What is wrong with a little friendly competition?"

"I do fear the competition is not entirely friendly," Christine said with a pointed look.

He frowned, but let her have the last word. He saw the waitress coming and leaned back a little. She came with two waters.

"Hello, I am Evelyn," She curtsied, "I will be your waitress for this evening."

Christine suspected she was Irish. She did not have a strong accent, but there was a hint of Irish under the French. And her hair was rather uncommon here - a strawberry blond that was very bright indeed.

"Um, Raul, might you order for me?" Christine asked, politely, "I fear I have not had any of the things on the menu." She knew this without even looking at it. Your choices are not very broad at an opera house.

After all the food was ordered, eaten, and the dishes taken back to the kitchen, Raul stood and offered her a hand. "You look, awfully tired, Christine. I will take you back before your 'Angel of Music' becomes offended," He paused, "That's him, isn't it Christine? Erik is your singing instructor." She looked up at him, slightly frightened at the look on his face, as funny as it was, but nodded anyway.

She took his hand and stood up. When they reached the stairs, he offered Christine his arm, but she declined, thanking him anyway, and began their walk back to the opera house.

Once back on the ground floor he continued talking, "When did you first meet him?"

She groaned, "Many years ago: when I first came to the opera house."

He appeared to be admiring the city lights until he spoke, "You've known me longer."

She ignored that comment.

"Does he work there?" He asked, remembering the stage hands as vile men who did what they liked with the ballet rats.

She knew his line of thought as soon as it crossed his face, "No."

"Then how do you know him?" He said, turning his attention to a very neat garden outside of the real estate office.

Christine turned to him, "He is a good friend of Madam Giry, almost like family she once said. Now no more questions! They are not mine to answer!"

He huffed and offered her his arm again, to which she gave him a pointed look and he retaliated before being rejected again.

--- --- --- --- ---

"I suppose I will see you tomorrow night," Raul said. They were standing in front of her dressing room door. The hallway which had been bustling with life only a little earlier was now empty.

"You will?" She asked, raising her eyebrows. Christine did not expect to see him so soon.

"I am the opera's largest patron. Of course I will attend, and if I am too busy tomorrow evening I will attend the rehearsal," he said, smiling. And then taking her hand in his, he put it to his lips, but when it lingered there she tugged at it, giving him a stern look.

"Until tomorrow," he said, smiling a little cockily.

"Au revior." She responded and slipped into her dressing room.

--- --- --- --- ---

Christine turned to the mirror and whispered, "Erik, are you there?"

"Always, my dear," she heard a voice that seemed much to close to her ear. She jumped, startled at first, but then sighed.

"I fear I still must get used to that," She said.

"Talk to Meg, my dear, and then we can leave if you so wish. Your rehearsals are later tomorrow," Said the voice again, gently.

Christine walked to the mirror, "Must I wait? It is awfully cold…"

Erik chuckled softly, "Be patient my dear, I would wait an eternity for you."

She glanced longingly at the mirror again, but walked to the door and this time she knocked three times, in a slower procession than last time.

"At last you are back, Christine! I have been dying to hear your voice!"

Christine opened the door, "You silly thing, did you not here it only a little while ago raised in song?"

"As pretty as your voice is… Oh, you know what I mean!" She scowled for good measure and sat on the bed, arms crossed, but curiosity got the better of her, "What's this, Christine?" She said, holding a large, black piece of fabric.

Upon seeing what Meg was holding she couldn't help a smile become plastered on her face, _'he always knows, doesn't he?'_

Taking the cloak from Meg, Christine wrapped it around her, inhaling the scent of the catacombs, musk, and Erik's unique scent somehow blended together. It was still warm, so he must have slipped it on her bed right be fore she came in. Christine smiled again, and glanced to the mirror, an even more longing look than before.

"I'm telling you, Christine, staring at that mirror like that people will think you vain!"

Christine hid her smile by burying her head in the cloak.

"It's his, isn't it? This mystery man of yours," Meg said, prying.

"Is it so obvious?" Christine said, peeking up from the warm fabric.

"You are completely head over heals, Christine. It's quite funny, actually!"

She stole another quick glance to the mirror, and responded, "I suppose I am…"

"So? Tell me about him!"

Christine bit her lip, but gave into Meg's pull, "His name is Erik."

"Oh, that's a nice name. Is he very handsome?"

Christine sensed his cringe, "He is handsome beyond any compare, Meg. He is simply amazing," Not needing any more prying, she continued on, both for Meg and Erik, "He is loving and caring, he is wonderful, though… He can have quite a temper! But he would never hurt me. I am unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him."

Meg gazed at her, "That is so lovely, Christine. Do you think he feels the same way?"

"I don't know, but I like to think so," She said, teasing him a little.

Meg yawned loudly, causing Christine to do so too, "Can I meet him, Christine? Please?"

"I don't know, Meg, maybe. Maybe soon… I think he is planning to attend the Masque Bal next month, so perhaps there. But you should be off to bed; I just remembered that dancers have earlier rehearsals than singers!"

"Everyone has earlier rehearsals than the _prima donna_, Christine!" They both giggled at that.

"I will see you tomorrow afternoon, Meg, sweet dreams."

And with that little Miss Meg Giry made her exit and Christine locked the doors.

Lying on the bed, she groaned.

"What is it, my dear?" Asked Erik's soft voice, but this time he actually was beside her, kneeling beside her bed.

Christine frowned, "I forgot to ask Meg to help me with my corset, might you help me?"

"Of course," he said, softly.

She stood up in front of him facing her bureau and moved her hair from her neck. He stood up and went to untie them.

"I do not see how you can wear this and still sing as beautifully as you do." He said.

He loosened them as softly as he could, "Am I hurting you, Christine?"

She smiled at his softness, "No, Erik, I have to wear this everyday."

"Am I loosening it softly enough, though?"

"Yes, Erik," She said, knowing there was no use arguing with him.

When he finished she turned around and pecked him on the cheek and motioned for him to turn around. He politely averted his eyes as she slipped off her chemise and slipped into her night gown. Once she wrapped her bed robe around her she approached him.

Erik was too quick though, as usual, and heard her footsteps as silent as they were.

"You know, you really should work on that," He said, arms wrapped tightly around her.

"Well, I am not a phantom," She said, and he nearly barked out a laugh.

They stood there for a moment until she broke the silence, "Thank you for your cloak, you really do think of everything," she said, it rested where she had lain down on the bed.

He kissed her on the cheek and stood up a little straighter. She took the chance to turn around and hold him too. She buried her face where his neck met his shoulder, he wrapped his arms back around her and said, "Do you want to sleep up here tonight or in the catacombs?"

"I think I'll sleep up here. I don't want the managers to throw at me a surprise rehearsal."

"Then I suppose I must bid you adieu, my dearest," he said, kissing her softly on the lips, but she deepened the kiss.

How she had changed in the year they had known and loved each other. Shy as she was, she could be so forward, as virgin as she was, so tempting. He ran these thoughts through his head and responded hungrily to her.

Erik broke off the kiss, "Tempt not a desperate man, my dear." She sighed and held him close to her.

"Would it be to tempting if I were to ask you to stay here with me?"

He sighed, "I wish it wasn't, but it is."

Christine looked down at her feet, "It's terribly cold, could you at least stay until I fall asleep?"

He looked down at her lovingly, "Yes, Christine."

Erik removed his jacket and hung it on the chair by her desk while she hung her robe got into bed. He followed her under the covers. She was cold, just as she had complained earlier, and he held her close to warm her.

"Erik?" She whispered.

"Hm?"

"Might you sing me to sleep?"

Smiling to himself he kissed his Christine on the forehead and hummed an old Persian lullaby as she drifted off to sleep.


	3. Only Scratching the Surface

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera (much to my dismay), Christine, Raul, Erik (I wish!), Madame Giry, Meg, or any other characters at this point. I don't even own La Garnier, the restaurant! That's in Edgartown Martha's Vineyard in Massachusetts! But I own this story!**

**I have not read Kay, so you know… But I ordered it from amazon! I truly hope it comes soon… Hmmm….**

**Thank you all so much for your amazing reviews. I am very pleased with this, and I am quite proud of myself! Um, I do realize I had some spelling errors, thank you so much for pointing it out. I will try my best! **

**ERIK'S ANGST NOTICE:**** Many people have given me feedback about this. I intend to keep him somewhat like this in pertaining to the fluffiness: I figured since he'd been rejected so much in his life and it being all E/C couply for a year he may be a little lovey-dovey with her. Hopefully not the corny kind! But as the story unravels I will attempt to do angst. I have a few ideas as to angst moments, some more so than others. Do not flame me for my angst, though, I am a beginner at it! Tell me anything you would like to happen and I will try my best!**

**I put the same quote in here by Stephenie Meyer, no one found it! It was "Unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him". Twilight's a good book, you should read it!**

**Send me ideas and review!**

Chapter 3

Christine awakened with an odd warmth surrounding her. She closed her eyes again, wishing herself back to sleep, but knowing it would not come. She turned around, two strong arms tightened around her and she stiffened. But realizing it as only Erik she smiled and looked up to him, stretching her arms into the air in a waking gesture, and then wrapped them around his waist.

"Erik, what time is it?" She said sleepily.

"It is almost 9:15, why?"

She groaned and got out of bed, "How on earth did you get me to sleep so long? I usually wake up at 6:30."

He shrugged, "Every time I thought you were to wake I sang something and you fell back to sleep."

She sighed, shook her head, moved to her bureau and pulled out something to wear, "Why are you still here? I thought you said I was tempting you."

He smiled, "You were and still are, my dear. I left a little bit after you fell asleep and arrived here earlier this morning."

She didn't respond, just listened as she gathered everything she would need for the day.

"You know, something you said to Meg last night bothered me."

Christine frowned, "And what was that?"

"What did you mean by not knowing if I love you? That you like to _think so?_ My dear, you should know by now that I am, how did you put it? 'Unconditionally and irrevocably' in love with you." Erik's smile softened the words considerably and made her feel much more at ease.

"Thank you," She said quietly and smiled, "I should go bathe. I will see you later, will you watch _Il Muto?_"

"If you wish me to," He said smiling, and she took her leave to her new bathroom connected to the other side of the room, her old ballet uniform in hand.

He took his leave as well, taking his coat from where it lay on the chair and slipping behind the mirror.

--- --- --- --- ---

_"'Angels cried at the gala night!' It says, 'Angel's helped the new soprano take flight!'  
'Mystified,' all the papers say, 'We are mystified! We want another play!'  
'Bad news on soprano scene, thank god they have found Christine!'  
'Where the hell's Carlotta gone?' Gossip's worth its weight in gold! _

_What a way to run a business? Spare me these unending trials!  
Half your cast disappears, but the crowd still cheers! Opera!  
To hell with Gluck and Handel have a scandal and you're sure to have a hit!" _Monsieur Firmin sang, entering his newly attained opera house, earning curious looks from the maids whilst walking up he stairs and into the hallway.

Erik observed this from his spot in the shadows, just happening to come across it in his normal sneaking around.  
_"Damnable! She's not back yet! This is damnable!" _Monsieur Andre sang, walking down the hallway upon seeing Monsieur Firmin._  
"Andre, please don't shout. It's publicity!  
And the take is vast! Free publicity!"  
"But we have no cast!" _He exclaimed.

"I thought you liked Miss Daae, are you having second thoughts, Andre?" Monsieur Firmin asked him.

"Not anymore than the ones you had at first. She is a chorus girl! As pretty a voice she has. I do realize everyone likes it, but what will happen when Carlotta does come back, hmm?"

_"But Andre, have you seen the queue?  
Oh, it seems you've got one too…"_

He gestured to the note and Andre read aloud:

"Dear Andre, what a charming gala! Christine was in a word, 'sublime!'  
We were hardly bereft when Carlotta left!

On that note,  
The diva's a disaster must you cast her when she see she's past her prime?"

Firmin pulled out his own note and read aloud as well:  
"Dear Firmin, just a brief reminder: my salary has not been paid  
Send with care of the ghost by return of post, P.T.O.  
No one likes a debtor, so it's better if my orders are obeyed!"

_"Who would have the gall to send this? Someone with a puerile brain!" _They both sang together.

"_These are both signed 'O.G.'" _Firmin observed.  
"_Who the hell is he?"_

_"Opera ghost!" _

"_It's nothing sort of shocking!"_  
_"He is mocking our position!"_  
_"In addition he wants money!"_  
"_What a funny apparition  
... to expect a large retainer!  
Nothing plainer, he is clearly quite insane!"_

_"Where is he?" _Carlotta said, running into the opera house.  
"Ah, welcome back!" Andre said, a little intimidated by Piangi.  
_"Your precious patron!"_  
"_Where is he?" _She and Piangi sang together.

"_I have his letter: a letter which I rather resent!"_

"_And did he send it?" _Firmin asked Andre.  
"_Of course not! _He was out all night!"

"_You didn't send it?" _She said, turning to the young man who had just entered the doors.  
"Send what? I did not send you anything," Raoul said, making his way over to her to see the letter she waved in her hands.

"_What's going on?"_  
_"You dare to tell me that this is not the letter you sent?!"_  
_"And what is it that I'm meant to have sent?  
_'Your days at the Opera Populaire are numbered.   
Christine Daaé will be singing on your behalf tonight.  
Be prepared for a great misfortune should you attempt to take her place.'"

Erik watched his not so brilliant plan fall to pieces but did not dare look away.

In a quick attempt to not get the very famous and rich Diva any more angry than she already was Andre and Frimin started singing again:  
_"Far too many notes for my taste and most of them about Christine!  
All we've heard since we came, is Miss Daaé's name…"_

Erik could watch no more. He didn't want his precious Christine to suffer both the embarrassment of being shot down for being a chorus girl nor Signora Carlotta's harsh tongue.

--- --- --- --- ---

**(After Christine drew her bath)**

Madam Giry was coaching a class of older, more experienced ballerinas who knew the play quite well already. They were working on one of the dances in a later part of _Il Muto_. She knew this because she had played in this particular play a few times throughout her childhood here at the opera house. She watched the girls flow around the stage dancing in familiar patterns. The gauze costumes they wore made them appear dream-like. Christine saw Meg and waved, she responded with a smile.

"Hello, Christine," Madam Giry said turning to her.

"Hello, Madam," she responded formally in front of the many students.

"Do you know where you are to practice today?"

She shook her head, "No, I do not. They never told me, but I assumed it would be here. Do you know?"

Madam Giry frowned, "I do not."

They watched the ballerinas for a little longer from backstage, every once in a while Madam Giry would call someone by name and they immediately corrected what they had wronged.

"I expect you all to continue this exercise," she said a few minutes later, "While I take Mademoiselle Daae to the managers," she expected they probably wouldn't, though, considering how many times they had done this play they would probably gossip instead.

Wordlessly Christine followed her backstage in the direction of the office when they heard Carlotta being overly loud as usual.

"Christine, go to the ballet dressing rooms," Said Madam Giry quietly in her strong French accent, "Wait for me there."

_"Prima donna, the world is at your feet!  
A nation waits, and how it hates to be cheated!  
Light up that stage with that age-old rapport!  
Sing, prima donna, once more!"_

Upon hearing these words at of almost everyone in the opera house she knew that she was out of the spotlight once more. She had been replaced after finally only scratching the surface when it came to being the diva Erik said she could be. Realizing this she continued with a slightly heavier heart back to her old dressing room.


	4. Il Muto

**Still not owning any of the characters… sigh But I own the story. So, I guess that's good!**

**I'm going to try to get more angst into this chapter. Please don't flame me if I don't do well, I haven't done angst before. But definitely give me some feedback.**

**SORRY I'VE BEEN AWAY! I GOT MY BOOK THIS MORNING! The reason I didn't update was because 1. HISTORY TEST, 2.I decided I'd wait 'til my book came, then 3. It came late. But… YAY! It's here!!!**

**Ok… God, I'm actual nervous about final trying some angst… but here it goes…**

Chapter 4

"_Prima donna, the world is at your feet!  
A nation waits, and how it hates to be cheated!  
Light up that stage with that age-old rapport!  
Sing, prima donna, once more!"_

It wasn't until he heard these words did he realize that Christine was not where he was waiting for her. He muttered curses to himself and figured that she would probably be in her old dressing room. How he could kill that Carlotta… He amused himself of thinking of the many ways he could do so while sneaking his way the dressing room and watched Christine from behind the mirror move all of her things into her old chest which she would soon drag back into the ballet dressing rooms. He was infuriated. How could such a woman as Signora Guticelli push his Christine to tears? Why the hell would those stupid managers invoke my wrath by not taking my notes seriously? The thoughts ran through his head and although he knew the answers he chose to be ignorant to them and it fed his anger. Carlotta, that viper…

He had to show them that he was not one to be trifled with. He had to show them somehow. The thoughts buzzed about his brain in a messy blur and only ending with the vivid image of the man he found in his torture chamber only the morning prior.

And for the first time since he met Christine the voice in his head was truly in control. _This is for your precious Christine. Get the body, Erik, the body… do you want that man to force chastity upon her as well? Do you want those blasted managers to truly be in control? The body, Erik…_

So in a fluid motion he turned on his heal and walked down the dark corridor, the only thing visible in the narrow passage way being his ever glowing eyes.

--- --- --- --- ---

"They say that this youth has set my Lady's heart aflame!"  
"His Lordship sure would die of shock!"  
"His Lordship is a laughing-stock!"  
"Should he suspect her, God protect her!"

"Shame! Shame! Shame!"  
"This faithless lady's bound for Hades!"  
"Shame! Shame! Shame!"

The rest faded away as he watched his beautiful Christine grace the stage with her beauty. But, cursing the managers to hell, he noted that they did not even let her grant the audience with the beauty of her voice.  
"Serafimo, your disguise is perfect. Why, who can this be?"

And yet, of course, Carlotta is always there to rub it in. The snake…

He descended from the rafters as he heard Piangi as Don Attilio recite his lines and replaced Carlotta's normal spray concoction with one of his own in an identical bottle, very happy that he bought the book from which he had read the recipe from… If you can even call it a recipe.

Erik than used another of his trap doors to get to the ceiling, in level with the chandelier.

_"Poor fool, he doesn't know!  
If he knew the truth he'd never ever go!"_

"Did I not instruct that Box Five was to be kept empty?" He said in a menacing voice.

If anyone said that he disliked the Viscomte de Chagney he would deny it right away for it would be the farthest thing from the truth. In reality he despised him. Perhaps it was his love for Christine speaking, but he couldn't stand having him at all close to her, even in the same room. Yet he felt that way about all people who set their sights on Christine. Especially included the corpse that he left on one of the rafters waiting to be dropped right above their heads.

That was when he realized with a pang that he left Christine down there who would most likely be distraught at seeing the dead man. That is why he hoped beyond anything else at that moment that when Carlotta croaked that wouldn't decide to just keep her there and actually send for Christine to be dressed.

"Your part is silent, little toad!" Carlotta's voice pulled him out of his reverie.

He responded quietly, "A toad, Madam? Perhaps it is you who are the toad…"

Erik then walked calmly to the rafters, on his way he heard Carlotta's croaks and the audiences roaring laughter. And he was nearly relieved to tears when the managers announced that Christine will be playing the Countess and she went to change. Nearly. Just hopefully he'd be able to get to her before she heard anything.

Trying to time the drop perfectly, just before little Mademoiselle Giry came out on the stage with her half of the ballet he tied one end of the rope to the rafters and with a deep breath he dropped the body and ran as fast as he could to the dressing room.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please! Remain in your seats! Do not panic! It's simply an accident… an accident!"

**Tell me how you think Miss Daae should react. I'll start another chapter right now, too. I realize that this one was a little shorter. **

**How was the angst? Better?**


	5. All I Ask of You

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera (much to my dismay), Christine, Raul, Erik (I wish!), Madame Giry, Meg, or any other characters at this point. I don't even own La Garnier, the restaurant! That's in Edgartown Martha's Vineyard in Massachusetts! But I own this story!**

**Yay, just finished the Madeline part in Phantom. Oh, I felt so horribly depressed when I finished it. She may deserve it, but I still feel badly for her.**

**Many people said should try some angst, so please tell me if I'm doing it well enough. I haven't really written angst before. **

**Read and review, pretty please?**

Chapter 5

"Raoul, are you alright?"

"Christine, we're not safe here." He said, taking her by the arm and headed for the first set of stairs dragging her along at a run.

"Raoul, leave me alone! I will wait for my…"

"Your what, Christine, your _Angel?_" He said, cutting her off.

"Do you think of me mad? Let go of me!" She said when they reached the door of the roof.

"_We can't go back there." _He sang, closing the door behind them and she ran to Apollo's Lyre, the only thing familiar to her on the roof.

"_We must return!"_ She sang back to him.

"_There's no one! No one to save you there!"_  
"_Raul, don't say that"  
"No one who cares!"  
"He's there, he's in there. You have to let me down from here!"  
"Forget this dream of yours."  
"Raul I thought you were my friend, what are you thinking?"  
"There is no Erik here to help you!"_

_  
_"Goodness, Raoul, what is going through your mind? Do you really think of me mad?"

"That is yet to be decided, my dear," he said, quite seriously. He observed her standing there with an interest she did not understand very well. It was almost foreign to her, but she had seen it in Erik's eyes many times before. But Christine didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Raoul, why are you doing this?" She asked him, still standing next to the large, golden statue. She took comfort from it, remembering the memories she shared with Erik up here on this roof.

"Christine, my dear," He said, softly crossing over to her, "I'm doing this because I love you. You must be getting too much of this opera house, you're seeing things."

Appalled, she tried to rip her hands out of his, but the attempt was futile. For a moment she truly felt helpless as to what he may do with her but before she could speak she was interrupted.

"Please unhand Mademoiselle Daae," said a deep, threatening voice that seemed to come from all directions.

Raul's face went slightly white, "Excuse me, but who are you to tell me what to do?"

"I am the man who… What I the proper term? Mademoiselle Daae will be leaving with me this evening, Monsieur Raoul de Chagney!"

Raoul heard the unspoken threat in the man's voice and knew that this must be the 'Erik' that Christine spoke of.

Christine suddenly realized that she had absolutely no idea what was happening. She thought about where he could possibly be… Places that he showed her and where she had been herself. Christine looked up at the large golden horse above her. She was correct: that's where he brought her the first time they came up on the roof. On the top of the golden Pegasus that graced the opera house.

"Erik, what the heck is going on? What happened? Raoul?" She said, her voice a little more anxious. Her heart fluttered a bit under her breast when she realized she heard screams.

Erik was silent, but Raoul answered, "It was Joseph Bouquet. He was hung above the stage and dropped in during the ballet. People kept shouting that it was the Phantom of he Opera, what a fable! I believe it must have been one of Bouquet's victim's suitors, did you know he was responsible for forced chastity of many of the ballet-rats?"

Christine's breath was suddenly very shallow. The cold truly started to get to her, she realized that she forgot her cloak downstairs and it was snowing. As she started to become dizzy all she could think of were three repeating words. _'He betrayed me… He betrayed me…'_

Raoul, seeing her swoon went to catch her. Erik almost literally growled and taking care to make sure his face was hidden beneath his hood, he dropped from the winged animal and went to take Christine from the Vicomte.

"Excuse me, _Monsier_," He sneered at Raoul and in Raoul's surprise at seeing the man drop he was helpless when Erik took Christine into his arms.

Slowly she opened her eyes to look straight into his. For a moment she seemed in complete bliss, but then her eyes filled with tears, "You couldn't have."

He fell silent, not sure how to answer her question.

"Erik, what did you _do?_" She sounded so hurt.

He said the first thing that came to his mind, "I didn't kill him, if that's what your asking."

"Well, then what did you do? What about the Punjab, Erik?"

Erik's temper grew at the most unreasonable time and he snapped at her, "Why do you question me, Christine, have you no _faith_?"

Surprised at the tone he used with her she answered quickly too, "Perhaps I would if the evidence wasn't there, Erik! What about the lasso? You didn't answer my question, Erik!"

She was no longer in his arms, but standing tall, all sense of maiden shame forgotten.

"Do I have to?" He asked, no longer venomous.

"Did you kill him, Erik?" She asked slowly, as if he was actually stupid and not the genius he has grown to be.

"No," He whispered, "But I am responsible." He said, unable to keep the truth from her when staring into her eyes the way he was. With anyone else it may have been different, but with her he knew… He just couldn't lie to her.

Not even asking how or why he was responsible she turned around, not wanting to cry in front of him. Instead of walking to the door, she walked into Raoul de Changney who had been silent through the argument, she forgot he was there.

And then everything happened very fast. The cold wind that had been bothering her ever since they came up onto the roof gusted past Christine and at Erik, blowing the hood off his face. Raoul, in a very unmanly way, gasped his surprise and took Christine by the wrist and pulled her through the door she had been moving towards. Erik then chased after them, hands curling around his special Punjab in his pocket. But then, looking at her tear soaked face, he knew better than to upset Christine any further and settled with just following them.

"Christine!" He called after her, before she got into the Chagney carriage.

But with tears streaming down her face the only two words she could manage to choke out of her pale, pink lips were, "_Not now_."

--- --- --- --- ---

Erik waited a long time outside of Christine's window. He knew it was hers when he saw the maids move in her dark green trunk from the opera house and laid out her night gown on the bed. He waited so long that he decided that instead of waiting in the shadows next to the balcony he would stand on the balcony and admire the architecture of the Chagney mansion. The mansion was only a few minutes out of Paris. It was not overly large, as he guessed some of the family's other houses may be, but it was a very good size. Probably about two thirds of the size of the opera house and about three stories high.

When Christine finally came in she slammed the door and went to the bed straightaway. Sitting down, she buried her face in her hands and cried. Erik hated seeing her cry, how could he? No angel ever did deserve to cry. Only angels of hell, like him.

Not able to bear it any more he sang out in a choked voice that soon became strong when he saw that her reaction was neither angry, scared, or sad. It was a look of relief along with some other expressions he could not read very well, "_Christine, Christine…_"

Christine stood from her place on the bed and walked out to the balcony where he stood in the shadow of the house. Upon seeing him she walked up to him and slapped him. Even though it was quite light, he could tell she held back, it stung more than Javert's whip.

"You said you didn't kill him." It was all she said but her tone of voice spoke volumes to Erik.

"Yes, I did."

"You killed him?!" Her voice rose in volume.

He quickly said, hushed, "No, I did not kill him. I said that I did not kill him."

"Then how the heck could you possibly be responsible for his death?"

His temper dangerously rose again and Christine noticed, backing up slightly. But the fear in her eyes quickly cooled his hot temper and he told her how he found the body in the torture chambers. She shivered remembering what he told her about them and how, if she ever fell into one, she could find the trigger that would open a trap door in the floor and keep her safe until he checked on them, which in the past few months he made a large point in doing every night. _'If he wasn't with me last night… Would he have gotten to Monsieur Bouquet before he killed himself?'_ The thought caused her eyes to tear again.

He wrapped his cloak around her when he saw her shiverand held her in his arms. She faced away from him, but he still saw her stray tears and he wiped her them away.

_"No more sad or stray tears,  
Forget these wide-eyed fears.  
I'm here, nothing can harm you -  
My words will warm and calm you. _

_Let me be your freedom,  
Let me dry your tears.  
I'm here, with you, beside you,  
To guard you and to guide you…" _He sang, hushed, beside her ear

_"Say you love me every waking moment,  
Turn my head with music of the night_

_Say you need me with you, now and always  
Promise me that all you say is true:  
That's all I ask of you…" _She sang, turning around in his arms.

"_Let me be your shelter,  
Let me be your guide!  
You're safe. No one will find you.  
Your fears are far behind you."_

_"All I want is freedom,  
A world within your night  
And you, always beside me,  
To hold me and to hide me…" _She wrapped her arms around his neck, her anger with him somewhat faded away and she only focused on the deep, dark beauty of his voice.

_  
"Then say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime  
Lead me, save me from my solitude  
Say you need me with you here, beside you.  
Anywhere you go, let me go too!  
Christine, that's all I ask of you…"_

_  
"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime  
Say the word and I will follow you." _

_  
"Share each day with me, each night, each morning," _They sang together.

_  
"Say you love me…" _He beseeched her, holding her hands in his.

_  
"You know I do…" _Christine stared into his eyes.

"No matter how upset I get with you, I promise I always will," She said with a sigh, "No matter how completely wrong you probably are." Christine said with a small smile.

_  
"Love me, that's all I ask of you _

_Anywhere you go let me go too  
Love me, that's all I ask of you…" _They sang together.

"_I must go! I should really get to bed… What should I do?"  
"Christine, I love you!"  
"I can't leave Raoul waiting, he'll only want me more…" _

"I guess we do have to think up a plan," He said thoughtfully.

"Yes, we do. We have time, don't we?"

"Of course we do," he said comfortingly, escorting her to her room. But something in the back of his mind told him the exact opposite of that: that they don't have any time at all.


	6. Tammy

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera. I don't own Joseph Bouquet, Raoul de Chagney, Madame Giry, Christine Daae, Meg Giry, Erik (I WISH:P)… Nor any of the other characters. Hmmm… Wait a minute! I own the maid that laid out Christine's Nightgown! Yay!!! Haha. I don't own La Garnier either. That restaurant is in Martha's Vineyard… Go there. Their duck is great. Haha. Ummm… That's it, I suppose. On with the story!!**

**Feedback about my angst-y-ness, please! I haven't written it before, so I'm trying my best. Be sure to read and review. Tell me any ideas you have, what you want more of (no RC romance, sorry. But I can do friendship: I have nothing against Raoul). **

**The masquerade dress mentioned is actually a dress I own! Except the one I have is strapless and is cut off mid-calf. And there is no bodice, just tight underneath the breasts. So ya know!**

_**Say the word and I will write for you… **_**Haha, I love the music in this. hearts**

**Thank you Mouse in the Opera House for letting me use her description for Tammy.**

**Ok, story time. Read and review!!**

**The first part, the flash back, was originally a homework assignment -- An ending to THE LADY OR THE TIGER by Frank Stockton. That's the story she reads to Raul.**

Chapter 6

_-Flash Back-_

"_Which came out of the opened door - The lady or the tiger?" Christine fell silent and stared into the hearth where the fire licked the wet wood causing the smoke to billow up the vast chimney. "Well?" Asked Raoul, looking at her from his armchair from across the room, "What came out of the door? What did he pick?"_

_Christine continued to stare into the fire, her legs tucked underneath her in an attempt to look modest in her nightgown. "That's left for us to decide," She said quietly, her thoughts elsewhere._

_Raoul reached to take the book out of her hands and she didn't protest. He lifted it level with his face and studied the text quizzically, "Well, that's ridiculous. Why on earth would the author write that?" _

"_Well, what door would you pick if you were her?" She asked him, with an eyebrow raised. _

"_Are you kidding me? I would show him the lion in a second. If I couldn't have him, no one else could."_

_She set her lips in a line. Raoul was just so unbelievably foolish. Did he not understand that when you love someone you would rather never see them again than have them unhappy? Looking up at the adult that had been spoiled so much as a child she realized that was exactly what he was - A child. Never denied a thing. And that was why he could never understand._

_"That's where you and I differ, Raoul," She looked up at him, now on his feet in front of the fire, flipping the pages in disbelief: still looking for the non-existent ending, "Is it true? Would you really send your lover to die if you could not have her?"_

_But no matter how hard she hoped she was wrong, the look in his eyes proved her right. It told her that his answer was a resounding 'yes'. If it had been him on the throne beside his father, looking down upon her having to pick between him and another, he would have ended her life with a flick of his wrist._

_And she would have believed him. She would have undoubtedly believed him and in her relief and trust in his guidance, she would have opened whichever door he pointed to and within those next few seconds she would have been ripped apart. Her life would have ended knowing he betrayed her._

_Yet, didn't he do just that? He took her away from Erik, didn't he?_

_She was lost in thought. Wouldn't she rather die than marry someone she didn't love? Originally she thought it would be right to have the tiger devour her, to have the large jaws engulf her relieving her from having to look upon another lover's face for the rest of her life. Did her opinion truly change when he gave her his answer? _

_So, that's the way it was. If Raoul could not have Christine, he would think she was insane. The jaws of the tiger._

_But what about the maiden? The comparison between Erik and a dainty blond maiden was amusing, but not entirely untrue in her opinion._

_She then left the room leaving Raoul's question lingering in the air, "What did I do?"_

Christine thought back on the night before and what happened when he approached her after she left him. The oddest part about it, she thought, was that his confrontation after she left was less disturbing than the words he had said in his study. It made her stomach tie up in knots. The hardest part was not knowing what Raoul was truly thinking. He seemed so nice when he talked to her after, but he clearly thought she was insane… What would he do to her if he thought her sanity left her completely? As much as she kept telling herself he was doing it out of his love for her it still scared her.

But hopefully Erik was right, and hopefully the plan they thought out together would work out! She truly did wish it would, but with her luck she had a feeling something was going to go wrong. The Masque Bal was in less than a week. November was now long go and so were the memories of the scared ballet on her second debut being terrified to death by a man hung in the rafters, no pun intended. The weeks seemed to pass by quickly, actually. She would wake up, get dressed, take a walk, or maybe even ride a horse. She would then have lunch, write letters to Madam Giry (and from there, to Erik) and to little Mademoiselle Meg. Then she would fill her time with things that ranged from admiring the gardens to singing in the vast music room upstairs. And then she would end her day having dinner with Raoul and his brother Phillip and retiring to Raoul's study and library to read to her self or either of them. And, of course, Erik would come to her every evening. She knew she wouldn't survive without him and that she might truly go insane, so she was grateful for his presence all the more.

Getting out of bed she wandered over to her green trunk. She never unpacked it, awaiting the day she would be brought back to the opera house. She lifted the lid and shuffled through her things, taking out a demure apricot dress embroidered with gold flying birds and decorated with silver braid and set it out to wear later on. Next she shuffled her other dresses aside and found the one she was looking for at the very bottom, wear it had been laid underneath a month ago when the girls first started chatting about the Masque Bal.

It was the most beautiful gown she had ever seen! Erik bought it for her, of course, and when he gave it to her it was with great pride. The bottom-most layer was a deep burgundy red, she guessed it was satin. The top layer was a black chiffon woven in the pattern of roses and beautiful vines. The straps and top of the dress were lined with a black lace and the bodice was held together by black ribbon in the front, not the back, which greatly reminded Christine of Erik's roses. The dress then swept the floor in a graceful, ethereal manner.

She slipped it on and tightened the bodice from the front, which proved to be much easier than lacing it from the back. It was the first time she tried it on and she was very pleased to see it fit her quite well. Christine then went to another small hat box which held some small trinkets of importance to her and pulled out the mask. She was pleased to see it was nothing too flamboyant and held it to her face. It, too, was a deep burgundy red with the same black chiffon on top.

Christine studied herself in the mirror and was quite happy to notice that she did, indeed, look good. She doubted she wouldn't have, knowing Erik and his eye for pretty things. She smiled and put the mask back into the small, circular box.

The door opened and the maid walked in, "Oh!" She exclaimed, she followed it by apologizing profusely, obviously afraid she would get in trouble. "I thought you would be out by now," She remarked, and cast her face down. Christine started to wonder if people of a higher rank here treated her cruelly. She remembered stories of beatings and shuttered slightly.

"It is fine, really. I was just…" Christine tried to think for a moment, but ended up looking down at her pretty formal gown.

Christine looked back up at the girl, she was quite pretty. She had short blonde hair and bright blue and green eyes. She was not much shorter than Christine. The girl reminded her of Meg, but was slightly more curvy, she was obviously a bit older than both Meg and herself. 

"What's your name?" Christine asked, starting to loosen her corset strings.

She seemed happy that someone would in fact ask her that, "Tammy."

Loosening them all the way and puling off her dress she laid it across the bed and slipped on her other dress, and Tammy went to help her tighten the corset. "Were you hired recently?" Asked Christine.

"No, I just worked elsewhere in the house," She said, "But apparently I am too clumsy to work in the kitchen for much longer."

Christine laughed and a small silence followed. When Tammy finished tightening the strings.

"Do you want to take a walk in the garden?"

Tammy seemed surprised, but agreed.


	7. Bethlem

**Disclaimer: I own Monsieur Mathew Gaubert. No one and nothing else. Not even La Granier or Tammy. And I own the new lyrics! Err… Most of em!**

**Review, pretty please, I love them!**

**NO, I don't hate Raoul. I just don't like him and Christine together. I think them as friends is OK. I have NOTHING against him, lol. But go ahead and don't stop telling me how much you hate him, it's quite amusing COUGH Adi COUGH **

**Hahaha. **

**This chapter is NOT supposed to portray Raoul as a bad guy. He thinks it is right.**

**If you have any ideas go ahead and tell me!**

**YAY!!! I just finished Phantom! Yay!**

**And my birthday was on Saturday the tenth, so THERE ye ****FOP**** ERIK LOVERS!!!!**

**R&R!**

Chapter 7

_Raoul de Chagney (first person POV)_

I walked into the small waiting room and held my hat, twisting the rim and trying to keep down the feeling that I was doing something wrong.

'_No, you are doing the right thing,' _my mind silently told me, and I believed it. I sat down in a high back chair and tried to look more confident than I actually was feeling at that moment. Oh, my poor, poor Christine… But she'll be grateful when it's over and done with. I've known her for long enough to know that she will appreciate the decision being made for her.

A man walked out of the small door to my left and greeted me with a nod. His hair was graying and he had a short beard, small, round glasses, and very neat and white teeth. "Monsieur Raoul de Chagney, I trust?"

"Yes, and you are Monsieur Mathew Gaubert?"

The old man smiled slightly, "So it says on my birth certificate. Come, let's talk in private."

I stood up and placed my hat and coat on a hanger and followed him through the same door that he had come out of only a few moments earlier. Through the door was a long hallway, I couldn't help but think that the appearance of the building from the outside was deceiving, because the inside seemed quite large. The walls were a pale off-white, and the floor was a light hardwood, but there wasn't enough lighting. On the walls were paintings, windows, and a few shelves of books and some odd looking gadgets. He entered a small door on the left, one of many, and I followed him.

Monsieur Gaubert struck a match and lit a candle making his way over to the fireplace and lit a fire. The flames licked at the log, radiating a soft light and making the room glow. I made my way over to a tall, brown, leather chair and sank into it. This forced him to take the matching couch.

"Monsieur de Chagney, I received your post yesterday and I have to say, I think Christine will be quite happy with us at the Bethlem Hospital. When do you think she would depart for London?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**I felt bad he didn't have a song…**

_Christine, 3__rd__ person omniscient POV (usual POV)_

All three of them sat down at the small table. Tammy was very unused to being treated so nicely and sat quietly and sat quietly in her chair while another maid poured her some tea.

"Did you contact Meg?" asked Raoul with a small smile.

''I did, she'll be coming at noon," Christine said, smiling politely.

They continued dining in silence, Christine looked up, "Are you excited for the masquerade?"

"Yes, very," after a short pause he added, "will you be accompanying me?"

Christine sipped her tea somewhat awkwardly and replied, ''No, I will not be.''

She tried to sound as polite and pleasant as she could and ate a finger sandwich.

"I picked you up a dress," he said, as if he were prying for attention. After sipping his tea he opened a white box conveniently placed near his feet and pulled out a large, pink ball gown.

Christine couldn't deny it was beautiful, and Raoul smiled triumphantly at the admiration in her eyes.

''No, thank you, I have one."

At that he did pause, "Who do you intend ongoing with, Christine?''

"Oh, Erik of course."

"Of course," He stiffened and turned to Tammy, "Do you intend on going, as well?'''

Tammy looked up in surprise, stuttering she said, ''If Christine wishes me to." She bowed her head and sipped the tea she dared not to sip until that moment and almost choked. She didn't realize it was so hot.

Raoul turned to Christine, ''Do you wish for her to attend?"

She looked to the young woman and said, "Yes, I do."

"Here,'' he said with indifference, giving her the dress that she was previously ogling over, "Do with it what you wish," he said quietly.

After a short awkward silence Christine glanced at the clock and stood up, "We should go and see if Meg is here, if you'll excuse us Raoul." He dismissed them both with a wave of his hand and they both out of the room. Raoul remained sitting at the table.

**A/N: Following this are three songs that I re-lyricized (totally not a word, I know) and you may choose which one you prefer. Tell me which one you like best!**

**All I Ask of You Reprise:**

"I gave you my palace,

my playground and my time.

And now, how you've repaid me –

Defy and will not love me.

Of course I know he loves you,

There's no one that does not,

Christine…

You will curse the day you did not do,

All that the viscount asked of you!"

**On My Own, Les Miserables:**

"And now I'm all alone again  
nowhere to turn, no one to go to.  
Without a love, without a friend,

without a face to say hello to.

But now that she's no longer near  
I can make believe she's here.

Sometimes I lie awake at night  
when everybody else is sleeping.  
I think of her and then I'm happy  
with the company I'm keeping.  
The city goes to bed  
and I can live inside my head.

On my own  
Pretending she's beside me.  
In my dreams I walk with her 'till morning.  
Without her  
I feel her arms around me.  
And when I'm cold in bed I close my eyes  
and she holds me.

In the rain the pavement shines like silver.  
All the lights are misty in the river.  
In the darkness, the trees are full of starlight.  
And all I see is her and me for ever and forever.

And I know that it is just her mind:

There is no phantom and the phantom's hardly a man.  
And we are really meant to be  
and no more Erik will there be.

I love her,  
but when the night is over  
she's insane, asleep but two rooms away.  
Without her the world around me changes:  
The trees are bare and everywhere  
The streets are full of strangers.

I love her,  
but every day I'm thinking  
Is this choice really the one worth taking?  
Without me her world will still be happy.  
But how could I damn her to  
that monster from the dark!

I love her  
I love her  
I love her  
And soon she will know."

**Stars, Les Miserables:**

"Deep, under the opera,

The phantom is waiting-

Waiting for Christine.

Waiting for her,

God be my witness,

I never shall yield,

'til we come face to face,

'til we come face to face.

He knows his way in the dark,

But mine's the way of the light.

And when she chooses me over him

She shall have her reward.

And if she fails,

As she well may fail,

to Bethlem Hospital!

Guards, to the masquerade,

Better be silent, keep to the shadows.

Keep watch over her,

And if he takes her, he better run fast.

My bullet is faster, and to Bethlem she'll go.

I hope my orders are clear, Understand what to do,

If he tries anything

You can shoot him too.

But if you fail,

As you may fail,

A beating for you!"

**(Part I didn't finish:**

And so it has been

And so it's written

On the doorway to paradise

That those who falter and those who fall

Will pay the price!

God let me find him,

so that I may see him

safe behind bars.

I will never rest 'till then.

This I swear.

This I swear by the stars!)

**A/N: Bethlem Hospital is an insane asylum in London. It was founded in 1247 by Sheriff Simon Fitz Mary as the Priory of St Mary Bethlehem outside Bishopsgate. In 1377 'distracted' patients were being treated (i.e. chained to the wall and ducked in water or whipped). In 1547 hospital was fully functioning as a lunatic asylum. In 1675-6 it was moved to a building in Moorfields. By 1800 this building had become unsafe and the hospital moved to a new building, housing 122 patients, in 1815. The building was quickly extended to house the criminally insane. It was further extended in 1835 by a dome and portico to the central block, and a new block to the rear, by Sydney Smirke. The first resident medical officer was only appointed in 1851. In 1864 Broadmoor took over responsibility for the criminal patients. A new hospital was built at Addington and the patients moved out in 1930. The present Bethlem Royal Hospital is at Beckingham.**


	8. Meg Comes

**Mm'kay. Back. Same disclaimer as always, so you know. Oh yeah, HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY TO ME. Yay.**

**EXAMS SHOULD DIE. Just so you know, lol. Gah, I hate them. With the passion of A THOUSAND SUNSSSSS!!!!**

**Ha… fun….**

**Ok, here it is. R&R, loves!**

Chapter 8

Christine walked out of the building through the large front door onto the marble porch. It would have been very slick at this time of year if not for the rugs laid down so one wouldn't slip. Making her way over to one of the many marble benches she exclaimed in frustration, "I just wish he would bring me home already!"

"With all do respect, Mademoiselle Christine, but I don't quite understand," Christine sat down. She didn't care that it was cold. In a way, the biting cold made her feel better as she vented.

Tammy was just confused. Christine had never mentioned to Tammy her business here with Raoul or why there was such a tension between them that it almost seemed that it could be snapped, or simply cut with a scissor.

"I don't want to be here," She said quietly, observing the scenery that laid before them. That was all she said, but Tammy's mind couldn't help but stir up things that had not been said and couldn't help but form a plan unbeknownst to the young woman next to her.

But to clarify she asked, "So he's holding you here against your will?"

Christine sighed, "Well, I guess you could say that." She tried to smile but it ended up looking distorted and fake, upon sensing this Christine returned to a frown that suited her mood to a T.

Tammy was dying to ask who the man 'Erik' was that she had mentioned to Raoul at tea, but decided against it when a taxi carriage pulled into the black, iron gate. Once it stopped, out stepped a dainty blond with help from a stage hand.

Meg's long, blond hair was pulled back with a thin, pink ribbon and she was wearing a pale pink day dress. Her freckles stood out on her porcelain face and her large, brown eyes took in everything with a curious twinkle.

She slowly made her way up the stairs, being careful of the ice, and gave Christine a big hug, "You have missed so much! So much so that the phantom could start beheading again with the frustration of not having his favorite performer back at the opera house!" Christine, who had looked horribly depressed before somehow managed to look even more down, to which Meg whispered, "Christine, you look dreadful. Cheer up, we'll get you out of here."

She turned to Tammy who had been sitting silently in thought and ad-libbed to Christine 'Who is she?'

Christine laughed and said, "This is Tammy. Tammy, meet Meg. It's cold out here, let's go inside."

Upon entering all three of them ran upstairs to Christine's room. They were silent, Meg could tell from the letters that Christine had sent her that Raoul was not one that they wanted to run into at the moment, and they were fast. Meg gasped frequently at the beautiful furnishings and such. They made it to Christine's room and playfully showed their relief at not being stopped to talk to. Tammy was assigned as an assistant to Christine, so she was not needed by any other servants.

"Oh, thank heavens," said Tammy, smiling softly as the other two girls giggled. They all sat in various places in the room and continued with their primping and jokes.

"_You alone can make my song take flight…"_

He shook his head. In only a few more hours he would be able to see his sweet Christine again, and he would stop driving himself mad. It seemed silly. He had seen her fairly recently, but after startling one of the stable hands he decided against taking one of the saddles for Cesar the past few nights. He had told her, of course. He didn't want to hurt his dear Christine's feelings, but he still felt guilty.

(A/N: I'm referencing to the movie costume, not the play. I liked this one better, lol)

Preparing his costume wasn't very tedious. And, in fact, it was quite fun. The red death, such a figure. Edgar Alan Poe was a brilliant man, if not deranged, but he knew that he could relate to his dark side. He made it out of the same material that he had made Christine's costume out of, and he even made a new mask to match it.

There was time left, though, and he hated it. He didn't want to wait at all, he desperately wanted to just go and steal Christine back, but it would all come in good time. Good things come to those who wait.

He left to see if his Don Juan Triumphant needed any last minute touches. In his opinion, anything could be perfected. Except for his Christine, of course.

"Christine?"

"Yes, Meg?" she said, while they were laying out what they were going to wear. The pink gown was laid out, Christine had given it to Tammy and Tammy had gone to see if the made who cleaned the parlor where they had had the tea had found the mask that must have dropped from the box.

"Will I finally meet this Erik fellow tonight? You've been so secretive about him, even in your letters."

"I imagine you will. I cannot wait to get out of this place, you haven't a clue, Meg."

"Truly?" She asked, suddenly whispering, "I thought you might have fancied Raoul…"

"Never!" Christine exclaimed, "I told you, I love Erik."

"Yes, dear, but he is a man. How can you be so certain?" Meg asked her seriously.

"Because I am, Meg. Every time he looks at me I just know. And I know that he knows too."

Meg sighed and continued laying out her dress, which was a heavenly, white angel costume. The mask was covered in soft, white feathers without being too flamboyant.

"Has he tried to… advance on you before, Christine?" She asked, softly.

"… Advance?"

"Touched you…"

"Of course he has… Oh, no! Of course not! Not like that!" Christine said, shocked.

"Has he ever tried?"

"No, not really. Not anything that would lead to… Well, _that_."

Meg smiled at that and decided to get girly on her, "Has he ever touched you in another way?"

"Hm…" They giggled and talked about the many vices of men until Tammy came back exclaiming, "Finally, found it!" with a triumphant smile on her face and a golden colored mask held up in her hand.


	9. Parlor at Day

**Hey, all.**

**I must admit, there are not many excuses for my behavior, but there is one: My computer broke! I just got a new one, thank God. Hopefully I will be writing more now!**

**And happy spring break! I went to Hawaii... ;) but now I'm on a lay over in Chicago on the way home!**

**Where were we? Oh yeah... :P**

**Warning: This is going to be... Semi-violent, inappropriate, no lemon, but says the words "anatomy" and "erection". I've written anything like this before, so tell me if it sucks... **

**Disclaimer: I own this story, Mathew Gaubert and Christine's dress. Noting else, lol. **

Chapter 9

"That really is a nice mask, Miss Tammy," observed Meg from where she was now sitting. All the girls were in their dressing robes, relaxing and chit-chatting as women once did and still do now.

Tammy blushed pink. "Th-thank you," she stammered, smiling and looking down at the golden mask. She was still surprised that Christine gave it to her because it was so beautiful being gold and decorated with small music notes and measures.

"I like yours as well," she said, smiling up at the blond. She was seeming to become more and more comfortable with the two girls, even though they were a bit younger than her. Christine observed how innocent the girl seemed and smiled too.

They continued talking for a while and Christine said that she was going to get ready. She got up and rummaged through her chest, taking out her dress and mask. Meg took note that she had put everything back in her trunk, she was planning on coming home.

Christine looked up from the trunk. "I think I may have left my shoes in the parlor," she said, thinking of the nightly readings with Raoul. Tammy jumped up, remembering her place. "Would you like me to get them for you, Mademoiselle?" she asked, her short, blond hair bobbing from the fast movement.

"It's fine, thank you," Christine said with a reassuring smile and a shake of her head. She had to admit, Christine found it uncomfortable how she had a maid waiting on her now so suddenly while she knew that she was no higher than them. She was no Countess or Duchess and being closer to Tammy made her feel better about this.

_- \ - / -_

Christine slipped out of the room silently, not wanting to draw any attention to herself. She pulled the robe tighter around her small frame and continued to walk briskly down the hallway. She could hear some laughter up ahead and avoided that way to the parlor by turning around and started walking even faster to the stairs. Christine had never been upstairs during the day time but didn't think it would be any different from her after-dinner readings. The De Chagny estate was indeed beautiful. Fine art pieces covered the marbled walls from top to bottom. The high ceilings were painted like heaven and the huge windows lining the walls made the light pour in as if it was, indeed, heaven.

She passed the statue of the first Vicomte de Chagny, a large and burly man with a stubbled chin and lame eye, and made her way up the stairs. She turned right into the corridor she remembered it to be in and ventured at a good pace. The same ravenous laughter drifted from the hallway and she soon recognized the voice, being that of Philippe De Chagny, Raoul's older brother. Somewhat relieved she continued walking down the dark hallway. Christine realized that this floor probably was never used at this time of day, which was why it was so deserted and dark. It was cold as well, for the fires were not lit yet. The dark tapestries were hung with care along the walls, creating a look of luxury. She continued on, wrapping the robe tighter around her.

She admired the brilliant paintings, with which such detail was used to illustrate the faces of the De Chagny family of the past and present. Christine looked up, and jumped, startled to see that Monsier Philippe De Chagny was in fact there, watching her in a way that made her rather uncomfortable and only a few feet away.

She cleared her throat. "Good evening, Monsier," she said politely, looking down at the ground and tried to continue on her way.

"And to you, Mademoiselle," said he, tipping an imaginary hat her way. He stumbled his way in front of her with a dizzying difficulty. His breath smelled of heavy alcohol, and he wasn't exactly acting sober.

Christine, both appalled and frightened by his behavior, tried to pass by him. "Excuse me, Sir," she said, once she realized she was struggling to get around him. Philippe grabbed her arms harshly. "Now, where are you going?" He asked musically, seeming overjoyed by the fact that she was there, "A fine woman such as yourself will need some escorting, don't you agree?" he asked, starting to fall on her, but catching himself before much harm was done.

She looked up at him nervously, backing away slowly, but nodded. He didn't offer his arm, but quickly grasped her waist somewhat violently. Christine gasped and tried to push him off, but in response to this he said, "Be kind, my lady, as you are crazy." _'I am the crazy one?' _she thought. Phillipe moved his hand over her mouth and pressed her back against his chest, thrusting his hips into the back of hers. Christine tried to bite him, but he just laughed at her and pushed her into the next door.

Christine's eyes wandered over her surroundings and saw that they were in the parlor. He knew this too, she supposed, for he threw her down onto the lavish armchair harshly. As soon as he did this she started screaming hysterically, but this only egged him on. "No one will hear you from here," Philippe said with a laugh and walked over to her with a joyous smile on his face. She didn't talk to him, but looked away, trying to cover herself with her arms. He frowned and getting angry he took her wrists and violently ripped open her robe.

Cold air hit her body and she new that this was beyond decency. All she was wearing under her dressing robe was her chemise. She no longer thought of the indecency of it all - she was much too frightened. Christine's voice quieted down to a mere whimper when she realized that no one was coming. He smiled again, still obviously drunk, and started to shrug off his trousers. Christine's shouts became more desperate as she looked on in horror. She had never seen a man's anatomy before and tried to avert her eyes. She wished with all her might that Erik would come, but she realized with a pang that she knew he wouldn't. Phillipe advanced on her like a predator, now standing over her thighs. He leaned in and forcefully took a kiss.

((A/N: I debated making this more graphic. Please tell me if you believe it could have been more angsty, graphic, violent, sexual... I have never done anything like this before, though, so please keep that in mind and not flame me!))

A small shriek sounded from the door and Christine turned her head to see Tammy at the door. Christine delivered a sharp kick to Phillipe's obvious erection and he doubled over her in pain. Without having to ask her for help, Tammy picked up one of the quilts and swatted it at Philippe. Christine rolled out from under him and picked up her shoes, and ran to the door. Tammy followed her and they did not stop running until they reached the bottom of the stairs. Once they had caught their breath, Tammy turned to Christine. "Are you quite alright?" she asked her, still a little breathless. Christine couldn't responded, so she nodded briskly. For the first time Christine noticed that Tammy was wearing her mask and almost smiled, realizing that she might not get into trouble with her employers.

They eventually got up and walked back to Christine's room. When they arrived Meg got up. "What happened?" she asked, noticing Christine's tear-stricken face and robe-less state and Tammy's wide eyes behind her mask. Christine shut the door and leaned against it, still breathing a bit hard. "Meg, I will not stay here. I can not," she said, her eyes closed. Meg walked to her and gave her closest friend a hug. "There there, Christine. You will be out soon enough," she said, releasing Christine from her embrace and slipping on her feathered mask. She looked celestial in an angel costume. Her dress was an innocent white with a not-so-innocent neckline, plunging down to show the entire room a good portion of her breasts. Her mask was white and feathered as well, and her shoes were a modest pale pink and her hair was up in a tight, but fashionable knot. Tammy looked rather nice, too. The pink ball gown looked lovely on her and the mask fit her face much better than Christine thought it would, and it went lovely with her short blond hair.

Christine slipped her dress over her head and turned to Meg, speaking under her breath. "Once we arrive at the ball, I must enter secretively with no one seeing me," she said, looking at her, "But if I was to do this, I must ask you a great favor."

"If I can do it, I will," Meg promised.

"Might you somehow slip my trunk in, too? I can't carry it, and even if I could I couldn't possibly do it secretively," she said, trailing off in thought.

Tammy was listening now, her green eyes somewhat intent but shy in her eavesdropping.

"Yes, of course," she said, "I know just the person. Where shall I slip it?" she asked.

"Actually, might you put it in your mother's room? I'm sure Erik - " As soon as Christine said Erik Meg's eyes lit up, remembering Christine's promise all those night's ago.

"He will be there, will he not?" she said, cutting-off Christine, who gulped. "You did say I could meet him - and that I would meet him - at this ball, did you not?" she smirked and Christine wondered how such an innocent looking girl could be so clever - even if painfully so.

Christine nodded. "Yes I suppose so..." She said. "And you will. Just... Once we are at the ball, do not approach me or even acknowledge me as Christine. But I will introduce him, just as I promised," Christine said, slipping on her shoes and sat at the make-up desk. She brushed her hair out so it was long and voluminous and flowed freely without a clip, the way she remembered Erik to like it. She smoked her eyes as well and slipped the mask over her face. "Are you ready?" she asked, putting the rest of her things into the trunk.

Meg nodded as did Tammy, who had slipped her dress on while Christine did her make-up. Christine playfully put some blush on Meg's freckled cheek and they giggled. When Tammy saw that they were ready to go, she ran to get someone to help them with Christine's trunk. This someone was her brother John, a dark haired man only a year or so older than Meg and Christine. When she introduced him as her younger brother they realized that Tammy was indeed a little older than them both. Meg flushed a little pink and murmured that it was a pleasure and Christine did likewise, but less shyly. It was quite obvious that Meg quickly became amoured with him. He picked up the trunk with ease and carried it out into the hallway and down the stairs. When Meg pointed out how well built he was Christine laughed and swatted her playfully.

Christine pulled her red cloak around her and walked out of the room, mask in hand.

**Pretty please review and tell me if that was sucky, lol.**


	10. Home

**Insert Indiana Jones music here**

**Heyheyhey! Two Chappies in a day! ((In a rhyming way! I had to...))Pleasantly different for me. Maybe I should get stuck in airports more often! xP**

**Will we ACTUALLY get to Masquerade? OmG! Maybe I won't, just to keep you in suspense...**

**Nah, jk. I am insanely bored and will gladly write some more. xD Better than watching Christine be a flake. (No, seriously! I don't like her as much after Music of the Night. I realized on my 9 hour plane ride while watching phantom: It isn't that I don't like Raoul - I don't like Christine! I GET IT! :P) haha. Well, she can be cool. WHen she isn't "I love Raoul- I love Erik- I love Raoul - I hate you Erik... I love Erik, I love Raoul... YADAyada...yada... Okay, my rant is over.**

**Same ol' disclaimer.**

Chapter 10

After Meg was finished gushing over John kissing her hand when bidding her goodbye and helping her into the carriage they were finally almost there - which meant that Meg was gushing for a long time. Tammy laughed, not understanding why anyone would fancy her brother but still loved him dearly and told Meg that she'll send him word if there is a job opening at the Opera Populaire. At this Meg ranted even more until they finally arrived.

When they arrived Meg turned to Christine. "Do not fret," she said, "I will get your trunk inside. You must worry about getting in undetected. Why are you sneaking in, anyway?" she asked curiously. Christine thanked her and mumbled something about not wanting to see Raoul, who would surely be near the entrance - being the theater's patron and all. Meg accepted this without question and watched as Christine slipped out of the carriage, the side not facing the theater. It was already twilight and she pulled the hood over her head so no one would recognize her.

She moved smoothly and quickly, most likely being a dancer for so many years, along the stone wall of the opera house. She didn't fear the set changers for she knew that right now they were enjoying themselves at the ball or working at the ball. Remembering the grate that was never locked, she scurried over and climbed into it. She lowered herself down into the chapel and was finally gifted with a sense of home and Christine was so happy to be back.

After lighting a quick candle for her father, Christine was on the move again. She turned to her left and saw the picture of the angel on the wall - she grasped the right frame and pulled up, trusting it to move. And move it did, causing the picture to come free and slide to the left. She looked down at the familiar, small spiraled staircase and smiled. Watching herself, she stepped over the bottom frame and onto the platform, sliding the picture back across and heard the frame click back into place.

She picked up one of the many torches lining the walls and with her other hand grasped the smooth, wooden banister. She made her way down the stairs, her steps quick and excited. She made it to the lake. Watching her step, as not to fall into one of the many torture chambers, she made her way down the sidewalk-like trail next to the lake. It was odd, in Christine's opinion, to think to think an underground lake beautiful, but beautiful it was. She passed the most likely millions of candles lining the lake in their various shaped homes - candelabras, candle holders, or their wax just stick to walls or torches.

**((The two descriptions of Erik's home, in the book and in the musical, were so different. I'm going to try to combine them so this story can be familiar with both. And I'm going to put Ayesha in!! Lol.))**

At last, the sight that she was so longing to see had finally met her. The millions of candles somehow came to a climax here, their light almost blinding but insanely beautiful. Scores of music were everywhere around Erik's organ along with beautiful sketches people she had never met and places she had never been. Most of them were of her though, which made her blush. Christine made her way past this area into his bedroom area, where the beautifully carved swan bed was. She traced it with her hand as she walked by it. There were many more areas like these, almost like rooms to a house, all of them separated by stairs or other things which acted almost like walls. One of these was a grand cat bed, and on it sat a cat named Ayesha. Christine had been trying to come to peace with this feline for a while now, and they had come across some kind of deal, and that was that Erik belonged to Ayesha: period. Christine could live with that though, for now, and scratched the cat's ear.

"Are you going to come to the ball, too?" Christine asked the cat playfully.

"No, you see - she doesn't especially like _people_," said a voice in response, from an unsolved source.

"She doesn't seem to mind me, or you for that matter," she said with a smile, her eyes wandering the walls.

"You see - " Erik said again, stepping out from behind a large harp, "you are an _angel_, and I very specifically said _people_." He smiled when Christine obviously brightened upon seeing him.

She walked over, admiring his red costume. His hand covered the right side of his face, letting his skin breathe and not be confined by the uncomfortable mask. "Oh, I see why she must love you, then."

"I'm more of a monster," he said, softly as she made her way to him. She reached up to his face and covered his hand with hers.

"No, you are not," she said with a small shake of her head. When he said monster she thought of Phillipe and shivered. He wrapped her cloak around her tighter with his other hand. She thanked him softly, not mentioning the true source of her tremble, and let him blame it on the dank catacombs.

Time seemed to slow when she was with him, especially in such a place where it was so hard to keep up with time. Christine let him turn her around and press her back to his chest gently. She shivered again, thinking of the damned Phillipe De Chagny and Erik froze.

"What is upsetting you so?" he asked, his voice a low whisper.

"It is nothing," Christine said and let herself melt into his embrace and forget time once again. A few moments later he spoke up. again

"It is surely not nothing," he said, Erik's mouth next to her ear. She turned her head towards his, not looking at his face, her voice a whisper, too, "It _is_ nothing."

She didn't want to tell him for the same reason she didn't want to tell Meg - in a way, she was embarrassed by it. She was probably stupid in going up there alone, even though she didn't expect to run into any drunkards. His temper flashed once again, but he tried to control it. "_Why_ won't you just _tell me?_" he asked, obviously struggling with his mood swing.

Christine looked up at him, her eyes watery, and he cooled down automatically, realizing that it was something serious. His right hand no longer covered the disfigured side of his face because he knew that Christine couldn't see it from where he placed her and he held her hands in his, bringing one of them to his lips in a soft kiss.

"Well, what ever it is, you can forget it now," he said softly, his voice always mysterious.

He disentangled himself from her gracefully and slipped on his mask. It was a different one than usual, Christine noted silently, and in someways it was as disturbing as it was beautiful. It was an off-white and had large, contorted lines that looked like veins. ((Yes, I am going to use the movie one. I found it very nice.)) Otherwise, he was covered head to toe in red.

"The Red Death," he said with a bow upon seeing her lingering glance. She recognized the name and later remembered that it was a story by Edgar Alan Poe. He turned back around and picked up a large, black envelope.

Erik planned to slip it into the managers office later during the ball and "kindly ask" them to "consider" this play, he told this to Christine to which she said, "And would 'Kindly ask them to consider' be written in a letter signed OG with a certain red seal?" And he smiled ruefully at her.

Christine took off her cloak and hung it over his swan-bed's neck and Erik slipped his cape on. "You look lovely, my dear," he said, taking her hand and assisting her into the boat. Once they were both safely in he shoved off the shore and into the underground lake.


End file.
